


Shooting Star

by Isa_T



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 01:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17612567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isa_T/pseuds/Isa_T
Summary: "We were kids, we were foolish and reckless.""You can't expect me to believe that your actions were reckless and untintentional, Arthur. Because of you I lost everything I once dreamed of."During a night of drinking at the saloon, Elizabeth finds a man whose past is unknown but wants a shared future. She feels safe, but is she ready to leave everything she loves behind and to be chased, always moving and never looking back? She assumes she is. Until she turns her head and looks over at the figure on the ground. That changed her forever."We could accomplish so much together, Lizzie."





	Shooting Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth meets Arthur, whom she immediately finds interesting. A stranger taking an interest in her causes her to get out of the cycle she was in before he was there. Careful but steady.

In my family, shooting stars were important. My mother always told me stories about how they gave some people hope and good things in life, but brought ones that didn’t live fairly despair and sadness. Meeting Arthur Morgan was like seeing those shooting stars: A feeling of delight and fear for what might be coming. I often wondered if I was the lucky or the unlucky one.  
My name is Elizabeth Alister. At the time of the accident, I was just eleven years old. January 13th, during one of the coldest winters in five years, I was excited. Three days before my birthday, my parents headed out to buy me a present, when some nobody decided to rob the store and murder every single one of its customers, including my mother and father.  
Because I had no family living nearby, I was taken to my mother’s brother, whom she hadn’t spoken to in years due to his aggressive nature and habit of drinking. He was the only family member I had left, so choices were limited. They tracked him down in a small town called Snake’s Canyon and dumped me with the few belongings I had. Once settled, I began to understand why my mother stopped talking to him in the first place.  
He called me flower which was actually the first sign of his insanity. My parents had previously had nicknames for me but the way he said it had disturbed me and kept me awake at night. I also started noticing he only called me flower when he needed something, like for me to go to the store to buy him more rum, or to clean the house when he was away doing God knows what.  
I was thirteen when he hit me for the first time. He had been angry with me before, but never laid a hand on me. I couldn’t really blame him back then. He never had a wife or children and didn’t know how to raise one. The point where that all changed was a few weeks after I had turned thirteen. I can’t really remember what our argument was about, he was probably scolding me because I didn’t get him his alcohol in time, but he got so angry with me he left a mark on my cheek that was noticeable even three weeks after he put it there. Because my parents had never hit me before, I was quite frightened after the encounter. I hadn’t known back then that it would become normal for me.  
The nights when he would come home completely wasted were the worst, and the most frequent. I had to wait up for him, so he wouldn’t thrash the house when I was asleep. Instead he took it out on me. Following the events of the previous night, I wouldn’t go outside because of my face. He would get angry with me again because I didn’t get his liquor.  
Stuck in an endless cycle of betrayal and sadness, I would find comfort in my dreams. They were usually about my parents and our happiest moments together. I would write about them when I woke up, so I wouldn’t forget all of the great things we did. Even during the worst times I spent in that place, I kept holding on to their memory. It kept me going and helped me remember who I was, or who I used to be.  
It all changed when I met Arthur Morgan. Or Arthur Callahan, he called himself at the time. A man who turned out to be my savior, helped me out of the cycle by just being himself. Instead he got me mixed up in something else, though. Running.  
I met him during the summer of 1881. I was eighteen at the time and studying to become a doctor. Even though my uncle was a violent man, he still let me continue my studies by using a part of my father’s fortune he left behind for me when he died. Of course, he didn’t let me have it due to the fact that he needed it for his addiction and paying off the house. I didn’t really mind, though. As long as I could go to school and help others.

After my school ended at 5 o’clock, I decided to have a drink at a saloon, as I did not want to go home yet, where my uncle was waiting for me. Patience was not his strongest suit and I knew he drank and smoked a lot more on Tuesdays, even though I didn’t know why on that specific day. I guess it was because he was home from work earlier, but being later didn’t stop him from drinking a lot either.  
Either way, when I walked into the saloon, there were three women and seven men. I knew I could take care of myself if anything happened, but because this was such a quiet town, nobody really tried, as everyone would know. Even so, I was careful and ordered a whiskey. The person behind the bar looked at me strangely, probably because women usually don’t drink that much whiskey. I knew, but didn’t care. My mother loved it, and I was determined to keep some memories alive.  
One of the women caught my eye and I recognized her as Grace, a girl who was in my class but skipped classes a lot. I didn’t particularly dislike her, but the way she was acting was nothing like an 18-year old girl should be acting. Smiling playfully, she was talking to two men who looked about thirty, one a little older than the other. I wished she wouldn’t, it would stain her reputation as a medical student forever, but I knew not everyone had the money to pay for the school and had to find other ways of making some money. I decided to leave it and kept on drinking my whiskey.  
Some time later, the door opened loudly, and a man stepped in. He looked around for a few moments before our eyes met. He looked away quickly and I assumed he found who he was looking for, because he started walking towards the two men who were with Grace, a little too close for comfort. The man, or boy I should say because he looked to be around my age, whispered something in one of the men’s ear and they followed him out of the bar. About 15 minutes later they came back in and resumed as if nothing had happened. Only the man didn’t sit down with the others, but headed straight for me.  
He sat down next to me and I kept my distance. I did not want him to think I was a working girl, especially because there were some people I knew at the bar. Grace was a fine girl, but she wasn’t exactly subtle, and even the slightest hint of me selling myself to other men would damage my reputation. Not to mention my uncle would be furious and I would not be able to go out for at least three days.  
He gave me a small smile and I noticed the faint smell of tobacco around him, indicating he was a smoker. Even though I wasn’t a big fan of people who smoked, his scent was intriguing. He smelled of adventure and I figured he had some wild tendencies. I smiled back and he spoke to me.  
“What’s a high-class girl like you doin’ in this dump? Not like you need the money, I suppose.” He shifted in his chair and ordered a beer, while I was thinking about a proper response to his question without seeming too suspicious.  
“What makes you think I’m a high-class girl? Maybe I just pretend to be to lure mysterious men like you in. I haven’t seen you or your friends here before. What is your business here?” Satisfied about my response, I continue drinking my whiskey. “Besides, isn’t it a tad bit rude to assume those things? Are you always so bad with the ladies, mister...?”  
He got the hint and introduced himself. “Arthur Callahan, milady. For the record, I saw you leavin’ that big house earlier today, so I was cheatin’ a little, I guess. Also, you do realize you’re wearing really fancy clothes for a bar like this one? Compared to the others, you’re a little princess.”  
I started getting a little annoyed. I knew I was wealthier than most people, but he did not have to rub it in. “Are you always this rude, or do you just don’t like me? And by the way, Mister Callahan, do not call me princess.”  
“What should I call you then, sweetheart? It’s not like you gave me a choice when you didn’t tell me your name. And by the way, I ain’t bein’ rude or nothing. I was just loosening you up a little, that’s all. I’m trying to get to know the real you, not just the one that keeps up appearances for everyone in town.”  
His words hit me. It was like he could see right through me, even though we had just met. “Elizabeth Allister, good to meet you.” I looked down at my hands in my lap and smiled shyly, my dark brown hair falling on my face. After what seemed like an eternity, I looked him in the eye. I was met with a soft blue with a hint of mischief. Even though a stubble was already visible on his face, he still had a tiny bit of boyish charm and I let out a breath I did not know I was holding.  
“I’m gonna be callin’ you Lizzie then. Sounds a little more playful, don’t ya think? I think you’ll be seein’ us a lot from now on, we’re sticking around for a while. You don’t really mind, do you?”  
I felt the tension leaving my shoulders and rolled my eyes a little. “I suppose not, but don’t get your hopes up. This town is the opposite of exciting.”  
His hand found my shoulder and I looked up at him.  
“Then we’ll make it exciting. I think we could accomplish so much together, Lizzie.” I knew we had just met, but the connection I felt was nothing I’d ever felt before, like having a thousand butterflies all appear in your stomach at the same time.  
“I think I’d like that, Arthur.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this story in my head for a while. Listening to a few specific songs, it just popped in my head. I hope you all like it and if there's a problem with the story or my writing, please tell me so I can improve myself. I'm determined to finish this story, but please don't blame me if it takes a little longer sometimes. Exams are approaching fast :) Thanks in advance and the next chapter will be up soon!


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